


FLEX

by WilsonRose



Category: Original Work
Genre: Acrobatics, Adult Content, Athletes, Broke mfs, Circus, Disturbing Themes, Drama, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, First Love, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, Love Triangles, Love at First Sight, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prostitution, Sad Backstories, Scamming, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Trampolines, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Unrequited Love, athletics, money problems, tightrope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:40:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29696556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WilsonRose/pseuds/WilsonRose
Summary: One day a 10 time gold medal winning gymnast woke up and chose to flip the bird to the entire sports world. All 5 foot and 32 years anxious of him decided to stand on a podium and declare “I’m going to build a circus!” while onlookers questioned if he had gone looney. Argus is now a retired Hermès gymnastic medalist and has decided to throw his old life away and live the rest of his new life cultivating a circus of love, whores, and FLEX. Come along with Argus and the friends he’ll meet along the way as they try to make a “dying art” happen.I’m tempted to make a “You can’t make FLEX happen” joke *combusts*
Relationships: But they’re surprises, There will be relationships - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	1. Copyright © 2020 by WilsonRosé

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

Copyright © 2020 by WilsonRosé  
**All rights reserved**

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

**Fiction**

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.


	2. A Change Gon’ Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a lot of gossip going around Columbia City due to a shocking statement Argus has recently made at the last Hermès GT. After going missing for weeks, what could the gymnast be planning?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to FLEX! I hope you like this first intro/chapter to the story and want to come back for more! 
> 
> Not sure what my update schedule will be like but I’d like to have a chapter out every 1-2 weeks by Friday.
> 
> Please comment and kudos! Thanks for viewing! I love you times 100!

Carried by the wind currents, remnants of daffodils float by the windows of a high rise office building, situated in the heart of _Columbia City_. Through a horizontal array of windows that wrap the building, a radio host duo can be seen speed walking down crowded halls, scrambling to get back on air. The two hosts had just been briefed on a particularly important inside story. Within minutes, headphones are situated on heads, mics adjusted, sound checks completed, and the fluorescent sign on the back wall switches on to read On Air, the show begins. A robotic voice announces, 

“This is the _JC Dive in Deep Show_ on _Athletics Radio_ , and it is show time! Are you ready? Give it up for your hosts, Jan and Christina!” and an artificial crowd cheers as both hosts pump their hands in the air.

“Hello to all of you loyal listeners, I’m Jan!” he shouts as he waves his hands out to a nonexistent crowd.

“And I’m Christina!” she says with an extra emphasis on the -ina while squealing out her name. Jan takes back over at this point as head host,

“And this here is the _Dive in Deep Show_ , where we DIVE-DEEP into Sports news! And boy oh boy, do we have a story for YOU today! That’s right listeners I’m pointing at you! Christina, did you hear the news?”

“What’s the news, Jan?”, she questions with faux confusion in her tone.

“Well, I think by now we all know about the unexpected interview confession that was broadcasted live 2 weeks ago at the annual _Hermès Grand Tournament_!”

“You talkin’ bout Argus’ confession?,” Christina asks while shuffling in her seat.

“Who else could I be talking about other than our city’s very own 10x _Hermès_ GT medalist? He declared before the press that he plans to hang up his leotard and never look back! It’s been two weeks and no one has seen the guy…until now,” cue the artificial oohs & aahs,

“Get this, the 10x platinum medalist that currently has the sports world in an uproar, was spotted this morning leaving his apartment, followed by an entourage clad in all black. His face was shielded but it’s impossible to overlook that trademark orange hair. The group entered a large black vehicle and sped away, to a currently unknown location in the city.”

“Men in black? Could it be the mob? Could Argus be in big big trouble?!” Artificial screams fill the studio.

“Nice one Christina, but no! Rumor has it that a surprise press conference could be in the cards for this spring afternoon.”

“So,” Christina leads, “a month out of the public eye and here he is today. All we know from his last _Hermès_ interview is that when he came off the single bar and waved to the crowd that night, that we would never see him on a mat competitively ever again.

“Not to mention how after that he hurriedly found his way out of the stadium, looking completely unbothered, and slipped into a van and has been in hiding ever since.”

“It’s hard to know what could be coming next-…wait… I’m getting a transmission from Mikkel. Yes? Yes, okay she’s telling me to change the channel to _PSNE 100_ and share the broadcast. Let’s tune in.”

***

In the heavily lit and white blinding conference room, managers, investors, and fans without an invite, smush into an auditorium-esque room to find out the reason for such a beloved athlete’s weeks’ long disappearance. Chairs are neatly organized throughout the room in rows and columns. Stationed before these chairs is a stage with a podium on top, waiting for the man of the hour to appear. The paparazzo stand on all sides of the room, anticipation leaking out of their eyes and ears, watching as the major networks’ microphones are strategically adhered to the stage’s podium. Their cameras are pressed against shoulders and eyes are pressed up against lenses, everyone is on edge hoping to get that first winning shot. As the room fills up the business partners wonder amongst themselves _why?_ What reason would Argus and his team have to call any of them there now, after being silent for so long? 

When most guests have been settled, that is when Argus and his agent, Abessa, walk into the room from the right, appearing through a large brown door from behind the stage. Argus follows Abessa anxiously, albeit his anxiety is not obvious to the hundreds of onlookers who only see and cannot see through Argus' characteristic stone facial expression. Step by step he moves his way across the stage, to stand in front of the microphones and podium. Abessa takes over the mic, asking that the crowd settles down and shush as the conference is about to begin. Abessa starts,

“Good morning, and thank you all for being here. There have been a multitude of rumors going around about Argus’s future status as a competing gymnast, and I am here to say that all of your assumptions have been right.” 

The crowd gasps, eyes dancing around the room looking for others who share the same shock, they all know now that Argus was not just talking out of the side of his neck, he was serious. Hands come up to mouths to hold back any other noises born from their surprise. Abessa continues, 

“I know what sweeps through this room right now is a mixture of emotions, some of you may be sad, angered, or confused. It is unfortunate because we are seeing the end of an incredible career. For the last 18 years, Argus has changed the rules and style of professional gymnastics, he will be leaving with 6 moves named after himself.

“However, just as important as his achievements, is the way he has conducted himself on and off the mat, always with dignity, always with class. I was asked to keep this short so I just wanted to say,” and she looks Argus’ way, “thank you for being an amazing athlete and person to work with, Argus!” Abessa then leans towards Argus with arms wide open, and before Argus can think of a nicer way to decline, he is pulled into Abessa’s hug.

The reason that Argus could not be bothered to entertain Abessa’s public show of affection is because he knows none of it is real. The hug is fake, partnered with a fake smile, fake comforting back pats, and a fraudulent, “You are amazing.” whispered in his ear to top it all off. Argus knows for a fact that his relationship with Abessa died years ago. 

What started out as a friendship between agent and talent had slowly morphed into shouting matches coated with, “You have a lot of issues that you need to work out and my issues are clashing with your issues, so please just do your job on that side and I’ll do mine on this one”, something Abessa would say out of frustration at least once a week. This reduced their relationship to nods in passing and little to no contact between the two unless business was involved.

Abessa’s entire speech of praise was a performance, and the only reason she was there was because Argus had desperately needed Abessa’s social skills, and ability to guide an audience, to even get this press conference going. She was here after a week of constant begging had finally convinced her to split from their contract. With this one favor this would be their final farewell.

As the room settled down from their cheering and admiration at Abessa’s praises for Argus, it was now Argus’ turn to step up to the podium. And what he would say next would turn his life upside down. He reached out for one of the mics with trembling fingers, licked his lips, took a deep sigh and spoke, 

“I am going to start a circus,” and the room goes silent. 

Back at Athletes radio, Jan and Christina are doing what Jan and Christina do best, looking stupid. The duo is at a loss for words with their headphones figuratively glued to their craniums. Jan thinks _Are we being Punk’d, is that even still a thing?_ While listeners at home feel as though they have just witnessed a bad joke coupled by the fall of an empire.

“What was that?,” someone loudly asks from within the sea of people at the press conference.

“I am going to start my own circus,” is all that Argus is able to mutter out as his anxiety builds within his stomach, causing him to feel something between irrational rage and overbearing embarrassment. Some guests snicker with their mouths hidden behind their hands. Some stare with their mouths hanging open. Then there are those who are bold enough to gather their items and leave. Not much goes on in Argus’ head as this scene unfolds. He barely noticed Abessa leaving the stage back through the heavy doors, turning her back on Argus as he continued to watch familiar faces make their exits.

He is drifting into his own head, barely hearing the questions and statements filling the air such as, “Has he lost his mind; Why is he trying to dabble in a dying art; What does he hope to gain from such silly childish dreams; And why can he not just take his earnings from sports and retire like a normal person.” All the guests, sponsors, and investors have no doubt in their minds that this will be all over the news stations in hours, if not minutes, and they want no part in it. 

They will legally cut ties with Argus as soon as possible, because no one wants to work with a “basket case” who wants to quit one of the highest paid professions to chase a circus building dream. They will label him a FOOL on the city newspaper and start threads of discourse about him online. There is nothing he can do to change that, but Argus knew before he stepped on stage that fateful day that this would happen, and a part of him hoped that it would. 

He deeply hoped that they would reject his goals and leave him alone, giving him the freedom to breathe without the weight of sponsors, agents, and corps weighing down on his lungs. He had long grown tired of the watching eyes who studied everything he did, everything he ate, everything he wore. They questioned his traumatic background, whether there were foreign body enhancing substances inside of him. 

They picked and picked and picked because they knew that he was an unbreakable one. And although he did not break in the style of a public meltdown or belligerent posts thread or one on one scuffle with a paparazzo, he reached the point that when he looked up into the stands at every competition, watching his fans throw down gifts, shouting words of encouragement, their energies radiating joy throughout the stadium, that he realized he could no longer feel that same joy that was written all over their faces.

When he would wake up in the morning and look at himself in the mirror he noticed that there was a stranger in his house. He too began to question all of the things that people wondered about him, like maybe they were right and he was some sort of factory built athletic machine designed to adapt to all of society's wants and needs. He had spent so many years building a character to rival another and please the masses, that he did not leave any room to build on parts of himself that please his soul. He finally had the opportunity to be a different Argus, and leave behind the facade of Argus the gymnast. 

As the remaining groups of big leagues left the room, from his spot perched on the stage podium, his nerves had reached their peek of battling over rage or running away, and he found himself taking in a deep breathe of air and bellowing a “FUCK” into his hands so strong that it vibrated off of the walls of the conference auditorium and made his onlookers jump. It was not a statement directed at any one person, but you can call it a warning. A warning to those who had all decided to abandon him in seconds and a goodbye to all who walked away without ever considering for a moment, raising a hand to ask him about his dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The Hermès Grand Tournament is a world tournament of this story’s universe (it’s on *lympics and W*rld Cup status)
> 
> Check out my Twitter for art and more ways to show love to FLEX! Check my pinned tweet! I love you! :) https://mobile.twitter.com/UirusonRozei


	3. S(he)’s Leaving Home Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all that went down at last weeks press conference Argus is finally leaving Columbia City. At the train station we meet the most important person in his life and learn about his emotions leading up to retirement.
> 
> (I also allude a lot to his past, but I’m a secret keeper hehe)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/ Light mention of blood and bruises (in the sentence that starts with *)
> 
> Incase you read the sentence and assume that’s what it’s alluding to (since I’m saving the explanation of that flashback for a later chapter), I just wanna make it clear that there is NO s*xual assault in this story involving anyone! No adults no kids no worries!
> 
> Other than that ENJOY THX FOR READING!

A week after the press conference debacle, Argus is seated on a bench inside the Columbia City train terminal. He holds by his side a briefcase, medium-sized, with the interior pockets of a book bag. If stolen, the perpetrator will become the brand new owner of 5 casual outfit sets, 4 performance leotards, a small case with a lock on it, a burner phone, and Argus’ ID. He sits patiently and quietly as the spring breeze picks up, and although he has planned a trip for one he has not come to the terminal alone.

Seated beside him is Lord, who is now his former coach, and is also a retired Hermès GT legend. The sports world knows Lord as a hard-ass 5’5” brunette with muscles that could crack diamonds, all while managing to keep up the figure of a Zumba instructor. Large circular glasses can be found stuck, in her hair greying coarse ponytail, above her brow. Not to mention she has a permanent resting face with unintentionally scrunched brows to add to it. They have that face in common, Argus and Lord, and in their heyday it made approaching the duo feel like a life or death situation for anyone with a question, because the two looked ready to rip off a limb at the utter of a word. Too bad those looks count for nothing now, since ones aged out of belligerence and the other knows what therapy is.

Argus likes to poke at her and call her _Savior_ , seeing as though she was the one who “saved” him from having a psychological meltdown when he was barely 11, and directed him towards sports as an outlet for his pain and then irrepressible bouts of animosity. She did everything she could after to get the kid into dialectical behavior therapy.

Therefore, with the added help of some much needed psychological guidance, Argus learned emotional stability through Gymnastics, refined his ability to focus, and persisted against the urge to let childhood trauma pull him into the nether. At the right place and the right time, Lord had thrust her hand into the darkness surrounding him and pulled him back into the light.

Lord chose to raise him, despite the fact that she was 35 when they first met and had already decided that she never wanted to have children of her own. All these years later and she still chooses to return home to an empty loft, and she likes it that way. Besides, at the time she thought, _Argus has a mother, he doesn’t need me butting in_. Sadly, she soon came to learn that this “mother”was barely a guardian, a parent, or a protector. Lord found herself having to take on all of those roles on top of being the only person who went out of their way to listen to Argus’ heart. This is why, as they sit side by side on the creaky old bench at the train terminal, both parties are finding it difficult to raise the topic of goodbye.

Years before the events of weeks past, the two had made a pact vowing that when Argus announced his retirement then Lord would also retire as a coach. This would not exactly come as a surprise to those who knew Lord best, because aside from having not planned on becoming a stand-in parent, she had never believed herself to be capable of becoming a coach. Sure, she had a good coach herself back in her day, Whitney, who was always in her ear about the next steps after retirement from competing. However, retirement to Lord meant sitting on her ass in front of a tv screen while wearing holey draws, potato chips in hand and cheap delivery on the way. She had worked her bones twice as hard and out of wack just for that day to come. Not for one second did she consider that she could manage both lives. 

The decision to take on Argus was a life changing decision done in the heat of the moment, and 21 years later she still thinks it would have been almost criminal for her not to have stepped in when she did. *It is not everyday that the universe dumps a red head + balled fist + crimson cheeked child, rambling to himself with bruises and blood on his legs, in front of her local gym. Anyone who would have expected her NOT to take the wheel had to be evil. So she did it, and her actions birthed a legend, but now their gymnasts clocks had run out. 

Every day up until this point Lord had filled his ears with words of encouragement,

“Argus I’ll support you no matter the decision you make,” she would say, and then knock their foreheads together with a sneer on her face, a habit of hers that meant she was serious. All those times she has feigned being serious and strong, but now it saddens her to know that Argus’ dreams are taking him far away from her doorstep. And so they continue to sit there in silence, looking up at the train destination board as the numbers change to state that the trains would be there in 10 minutes.

That fact was what was making Lord the most uneasy right now. The fact that there was more than one train arriving in 10 minutes, and Argus had stuck to his promise of refusing to tell her where he was headed. This plan had gone into effect 3 months ago and over the course of those 3 months the only details of his travel plan that he shared were,

“Somewhere far, maybe rural or farmland, somewhere with spirit, somewhere where the moment I step off the train the wind will lead the way.” And Lord had thought, _Whatever the fuck that means_ and teasingly called him weird. Although no matter how divergent his train of thinking could be at times Lord knows, knows that he strongly believes in himself and what he is saying. She believes in him too which leaves her with no other choice on this day but to hold his hand and wait. Argus was throwing everything away, his life as he knew it would never be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I split this chapter into two parts cause I felt like it needed to have a break, so you can take a break between reading this  
> Check out my Twitter: @uirusonrozei for art and if you wanna know what everyone looks like when I (eventually) draw them, Argus is there tho lol


	4. S(he)’s Leaving Home Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all that went down at last weeks press conference Argus is finally leaving Columbia City. At the train station we meet the most important person in his life and learn about his emotions leading up to retirement.
> 
> (I also allude a lot to his past, but I’m a secret keeper hehe)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of last chapter! No warnings here, just sad boi hours

As they wait and she watches over him out of the corner of her eye, she can feel the confidence radiating off his skin even as his mouth says nothing. Three months before on a cool night, Argus had insisted on staying at Lord’s flat to drink coffee at 2 am and complain about seasonal allergies. She remembers it clearly, him with his feet curled up to his chest, sitting in a black leotard as if it was proper clothing, red hair in a top knot, and his 5 foot frame being absolutely devoured by her bean bag couch in front of a muted tv. As Lord continued to calmly rage about how pollen would be the death of her, she realized that at a certain point in their conversation Argus had stopped responding. He had rested back into the couch and stared his pale green eyes down at the cup of coffee in his hand. Lord watched him battle within his brain, the furrow in his brows and scrunched nose showed her that he was getting ready to say what was really on his mind. After a brief moment of silence, he finally peered up into Lord’s browns and told her, “I think it is time we part ways,” and returned to peering into his cup, afraid of the words that could possibly follow his.

Lord slowly placed down the mug she was holding onto the maple leaf shaped table in front of her, and leaned over to try to catch Argus’ eyes that were purposefully shifting all around the cup and not in her direction,

“We? As in you and I? Why on earth would we part ways, kid?”

“Savior, I- I don’t know exactly how to say this, but I’ve made plans to leave this city. I need to let this life go an- and rid myself of this all-consuming dedication to pleasing other people!” At this point he started to get more animated, really feeling the words he was putting together, 

“I am afraid that if I do not leave Columbia now I am going to waste away, having missed out on living a life that fulfills all of my desires. I want things that I cannot find here,” and as he returned to sitting back he felt as though he was beginning to speak more passionately than he ever had in his entire 32 years. Lord on the other hand is so taken aback, she can only think to fan her arms in the air from confusion and ask,

“Woah-Woah now, let’s chill on this talk of wasting away, what’s going on? What’s made you want to quit all of a sudden…”

“Savior,” he sighs, “You know where my ambition derives from…”

“But-”

“No. I thought that if I kept pushing myself harder and harder, I would eventually wake up one day having successfully painted over all of my agonizing memories with gratifying reflections of my success. Instead, I have become conscious of the truth.

“The truth being that I have been competing to prove something to someone who is not even here to care. I have been delusional in my thinking that looking at the bars during tournaments only reminded me of my personal gains and progress. But, these days I look up from the mat and I see her, taking off in the air.” As he chokes out the last sentence Argus sinks further into the couch, to stare up at the ceiling. His hands began to tremble and his eyes projected unwanted images on the ceiling surface that only he could see. It had to have been reminders of what he experienced to get to the top of his game. 

Lord can do little but watch and listen, as Argus pours out his soul to her. She will talk him down if it gets to that point but for now she knows that he needs to get this off his chest. He has likely been holding all of this in for years, he is known to keep a secret, or twenty,

“You know,” he sighs and continues, “I train, and I see her on the sidelines. I go for a run, and I am scared to look back because I might catch her chasing after me. Even biking runs the risk of being knocked off by a shoe in my wheel.

“My medals, the ones that I sweat blood and cry tears over, are stashed away in the very back of my closet in a locked chest. If I hang them up on the walls, I feel myself being pulled back into the memory of that house. I just can’t do this anymore… I love this sport and I love what you have made it for me Lord but,” Argus turns back towards Lord, back to her eyes,

“I wake up every day, the same way she did, alone in it all, just like she was. I do not want to end up with everything I built suddenly being swiped up from under me and having nowhere to turn because that was all I had in life. Imagine me turning into a hateful person! I- I need to go do something that completes me, and I think I know what that is” he finally settles back, having said all that he wanted.

With that Lord scoots closer to Argus, her shoulder touching his,

“Argus, you will never-ever-EVER be like her! Nevertheless, I understand how all of this could be affecting your healing process.

“Listen, kid, I don’t know exactly what to say cause truthfully I want to tell you to stay up under my tit and never leave, let’s go at this forever! But- Fuck it! Whatever! Tell me what you need and I got you. We’ll fight whoever we must tooth and nail if it comes to that point. Understand?” And she reaches out her hand to hold his, squeezing it for reassurance and shaking it to seal the deal. Then she does the thing, the bumping heads thing that he has never gotten used to.

“Well I guess that’s the end of this for me, honestly, I was tired too,” she snickers, “Getting too old for hours long interviews, I almost fell asleep on the last….five,” she laughs, “Jokes aside, when you announce that you quit, what are you going to do? Ooooooo Abessa’s gonna be pissed! I need that on film!”

“First things first, I have to leave Columbia City. Leave this all behind on my own terms and try to find a place that doesn’t make me feel so alone. This may sound mad but, I want to build a circus.”

And after that day the two have been planning for Argus’ eventual exit from the sports world, and now the time has come. The trains start to pull in and Lord feels a pain in her heart, but she will choose to not take notice of it. Argus stands up and she follows him to the platform that is for a train going south. It’s destination reads _Stonegracewoods_ , and she knows that neither of them have any clue what it is going to be like there. They have been so silent the entire time that neither realizes they still have not said goodbye. When the train stops and starts to allow others to board is when Argus opens his mouth to speak, and all that comes out is,

“Thank you. When I make it big, come see me sometime, yeah?” and without looking at him Lord nods, “Yeah, be safe.” She watches as he boards the train, taking a few steps back to watch him find his seat through the window. Nothing left to do but stand and stare and wait for the moment, when the train will take off and his presence will become a blur before her eyes. _He’s leaving home_ , she says to no one, while the tears fill her eyes. Abruptly, before the doors close and the train takes off she catches how quickly Argus bolts from his seat, back to the closing doors. And before they slam shut he shouts, “I love you!” and he is gone. The doors shut before Lord can choke out a response, then she is left behind, caught in the steam of the train as the tears fall from her eyes, soaking the daffodil littered bricks and she watches on as her person, rides away into a new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been naming these chapters after songs that just pop into my head as I’m writing. I hope you liked Lord, cause I do :) And she will be back in mind and body and spirit.
> 
> @UirusonRozei on Twitter

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my Twitter for art and more ways to show love to FLEX! Check my pinned! I love you! Thanks for reading! :) https://mobile.twitter.com/UirusonRozei


End file.
